


lit a fire while i waited for more

by kaientai



Series: Captains & Soulmates [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Getting Together, Non-Graphic Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai
Summary: Admitting that you're in love with your soulmate should be a breeze, right?Wrong.
Relationships: Terushima Yuuji/Reader
Series: Captains & Soulmates [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1417786
Comments: 7
Kudos: 266





	lit a fire while i waited for more

Yuuji spills his drink on your outfit the day you meet him.

It's normal. Accidents like this happen a lot in these frat parties, where everyone is too far gone to literally and figuratively hold their liquor. You're about to let him off with nothing more than a dirty look, but his grin is sharp-edged with razor blades—the kind that lets you know that he definitely bothered you on purpose. 

"Nice tatts you got there," he says. "I think I might just have the matching set."

The frown you didn't know you've been holding deepens as your fingers absentmindedly trace the mark on your skin. 照島 遊児 has been inked across the smooth expanse of your collarbone for as long as you could remember. Of all the times he could come barreling into your life, why'd it have to be now?

But when Yuuji pulls up the sleeve of his university sweater, (Surname) (Name) is rendered in dark ink on his inner wrist, as if fate willed for the reminder to be clear and stark on his skin—much like your own. 

He ends up pushing you against a wall in a deserted hallway after you point out that he's terrible at small talk. Yuuji sneers as his lips hover over the skin of your throat, grinning when you shiver beneath him.

"I'm good at other things, though." 

You simper, tipping your head to give him leeway to mouth at your neck. "All this time I thought my soulmate was the best of both worlds."

"Sorry to disappoint," Yuuji murmurs, but his words are insincere as he sucks a hickey high up enough that even a scarf won't hide it. 

...

To your dismay, he finds out where you live fairly quickly.

"I have connections everywhere," he says, making himself awfully comfortable on your single-sized bed. 

You grimace. "Soulmate or no, this is borderline stalking." 

Yuuji all but shrugs, reaching over to your nightstand to flip through one of your lecture notebooks. "Hm, stalking is a very relative term—"

"Out," you cut him off, folding your arms over your chest. "I have a morning class tomorrow."

"I'll wake you up before I go, then," he proposes, the glint in his eyes unsettling, like he thinks he's already gotten you where he wants you to be. 

"And who said I wanted you to stay?" you ask, but after he fucks you senseless for the first time, you put your head on Yuuji's chest—the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat soothing enough to lull you to sleep.

...

When you're out to grab a coffee from the nearest Starbucks, it's Yuuji behind the register, and you have to physically keep yourself from screaming.

"What'll it be today, miss?" Yuuji asks cheerfully, as if he hadn't just rolled out of your bed an hour ago.

"You little—"

"I'm sorry, but our drinks only come in tall, grande, and venti."

"Fuck you," you hiss, and Yuuji rings you up for a venti espresso.

... 

_I'm busy_ , Yuuji texts back when you ask if he's coming over today. You don't lock your door, though, and he shows up just a few minutes after midnight. 

"I'm going to bed," you tell him, as Yuuji watches you strip down into your underwear. "I don't care if you stay or not."

Yuuji steps closer and says, "I'm here, aren't I?" in a crude imitation of your voice. 

You wrap your mouth around his cock after half an hour of coaxing you into it and you don't let him come for another half hour just because you can.

...

"What do you feel about my piercing?"

Yuuji asks the question out of nowhere. You're in the middle of getting some Physics homework over with when you flash him a confused stare. 

He reads the inquiry in your eyes and laughs. "Most girls lose their shit over it, y'know? Especially when I'm going down on them." 

Most girls. _Implying he's gone down on multiple females_ , you think bitterly. 

"It's okay, I guess," you say, enclosing your final answer in a box on your problem set. "I've had better." 

And that isn't really a lie. Kuroo from Applied Chemistry didn't have a barbell in his tongue, but he's managed to make you come with his mouth and fingers alone about a year ago.

You don't tell Yuuji that, but even if you didn't, he makes it a point to bury his pierced tongue so deep in you, the next-door neighbors are knocking to tell you to keep it down.

...

You say, "I have a paper due tomorrow," when Yuuji catches you on the way to his next class. 

"I'll come over early, then."

He does, and every time you start a new paragraph, Yuuji sucks a new hickey onto your collarbone, careful not to touch the kanji engraved on your skin.

"You're awfully mindful," you point out in-between giggles.

Yuuji shrugs, mouth teasing the line of your jaw. "It'd be weird to suck on the letters of my own name, you know."

With his guard down, you snatch Yuuji's wrist in your hand, pulling it closer so that your lips are ghosting over the name marked on the surface.

"You mean like this?" you ask, seductively darting your tongue out to lick his smooth skin. 

The look he gives you is one part disgusted and two parts amused. Yuuji gets up from the stool he's dragged over to your study table and promptly lounges on your bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs you stuck on the ceiling. 

"Boner effectively killed, but I'm sure he'll come around once you're done."

You chuckle as you begin typing in the conclusion. "I'll make sure to take my sweet time." 

"Please don't."

...

You find out he's in the university's volleyball team a few weeks before the term ends, and you storm into the gym's locker rooms when you're sure he's the only one left inside. Yuuji is sitting on a metal bench in nothing but a towel, drying his hair as he giggles at a stupid meme he scrolls past on his phone. He looks up at you when the door slams shut, confusion and curiosity dancing in his eyes.

"Did you have any plans on telling me you're on the team or was I just going to find out from a classmate that wants you to bone her?" 

Yuuji's mouth puckers like he's keeping himself from bursting out laughing, but he's unable to contain it for long.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" he wonders, wiping a tear from his eye. 

Your face burns when you tip Yuuji's chest hard enough that he ends up lying with his back against the cold metal. He yelps in protest, but the words melt on his tongue when you straddle his face in between your legs; skirt hiking higher up your thighs. 

"Make it up to me," you murmur. 

Yuuji blinks once before assuming his mask of tactlessness. Strong arms tug your legs closer to his face, where his nose nuzzles the growing heat in between. 

"Thanks for the meal."

...

When the next semester resumes, you run into Yuuji at the campus bookstore.

"Come over," he says, "I got a new blender."

You stare at him. "You know you can just say 'let's fuck' like a normal person, right?"

Yuuji laughs, shaking his head. "For one, I actually _do_ have a new blender. Is it so bad that I want to make my soulmate a smoothie every now and again?" 

You can feel yourself blushing at the way he addressed you, but before he can shit on you about it, you take him up on his offer and head the opposite direction. 

When you drop by his apartment fifteen minutes past the time you agreed on (Yuuji gives shitty directions), he's already in the middle of chopping up some fruit and lining up cans of condensed milk on the kitchen counter. His prized blender is sitting idly by the sink, where the electrical socket is way too close to a water source for comfort.

"I'm lactose intolerant," you say, kicking the door shut behind you. 

"I'll just blend in the fruit, then." Yuuji shrugs. "You want some sugar or no?"

After he cleans up and your smoothie is half-finished, Yuuji peels off your clothes until you're riding his cock on his beat-up sofa.

“Are you fucking anyone else?” he asks with a strain in his voice. 

“Why would you ask that when you’re balls deep inside me?” you ask him back, and Yuuji laughs, pulling him down to kiss beneath your ear.

"Just curious," he says, before his self-control snaps and he's ploughing into you like a jackhammer in reverse. 

Yuuji comes on your stomach and toys with your clit until stars dance in the seams of your vision. After, he pulls you flush against him, not caring for the emission that's staining his couch from where it trickles from your stomach and onto the cushions.

The space is cramped; Yuuji's body heat is too much, but you endure it. You feel him snoring softly beside you, even if the sun's still out and you've only gone at it a single round. Your answer to his previous question is clogging your throat like a fishbone that you want nothing but to spit out. _No_ , you're not fucking anyone else.

Now, you're left wondering if he can say the same for himself, too. 

Yuuji's nap is disturbed when his phone starts ringing on the kitchen counter. You get dressed awkwardly, which is strange because the afterglow was never stifling in Yuuji's presence. 

"You staying for dinner?" he asks once he ends the call. 

You shake your head. "No, thank you."

When you hop inside a bus headed downtown, your hand grazes your soul mark when you flip your hair over your shoulder.

You kind of regret turning him down.

...

The next time you come over, Yuuji is re-dyeing his hair.

"You missed a spot," you tell him, stepping into the bathroom to point at the portion of his scalp left untouched by the bleach.

He nods minutely, reaching behind his head to coat it with the formula. "Thanks."

“I want to hold hands,” he says, emerging from the shower with a wisps of steam following his exit. You're sitting in his bed on your laptop, catching up on a TV series with Yuuji's shitty WiFi as you affix him with a bizarre look.

“Okay,” you agree with a shrug, placing the computer on Yuuji's desk. He climbs into his bed next to you, newly bleached hair dripping water everywhere.

“Look,” Yuuji says, reaching over and taking your hand. He swipes a thumb over your knuckles with a tantalizing grin. “We’re holding hands.”

“Quit that, you’re being weird.” You don't pull away, so Yuuji kisses you, soft and languid. “Why are you being like this?”

“What?” he asks. “You don’t like it?”

You do, but there’s no way in hell you'd ever admit that.

“I’m going to suck you off,” is all you tell him. Yuuji grins, like he understands, and opens his legs.

...

“Come over,” Yuuji says. At this point, you don't even know why he asks anymore. “I have to finish my history paper.”

"I just came over yesterday, jackass."

He smiles. "It's a new day!"

“I’m not blowing you under the table, if that was what you wanted.”

“You talk like that in public, but you won’t in the bedroom?” Yuuji asks, nudging your arm with his elbow. “See you later!”

“Go away,” you yell, earning a few stares from the students milling about. 

Yuuji's in sweats when you walk inside his apartment.

“Lock it behind you,” he says, and you do. “Come keep me company.”

“If you want company, get a dog, dammit,” you tell him, but you open your own laptop to finish your lab report, ankles brushing with Yuuji's under the table.

Later, Yuuji says, “No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not fucking anyone else.” He pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the outer curve of your thighs. His fingers trail on the mark on your chest, and his touch sets your skin aflame. “Just you.”

“Okay,” you say, trying your best to ignore the warmth that prickles your chest, before kissing him. You try not to dwell on how your soulmate normally shouldn't be fucking anyone else in the first place.

Then again, what's 'normal' for you and Yuuji would make a regular person recoil with disgust anyway.

...

Your girl friends eventually sulk over the fact that you've been turning down their invites for reasons you've never bothered telling them. Of course, they'd be happy for you if you tell them you've finally met your soulmate. But something about telling them that _Yuuji_ is your soulmate makes you hold back. 

Though the bond you supposedly share has been cemented even before you were born, it still doesn't feel right to reveal. Nor do you think it ever will be. 

"Come on, (Name)-chan! The new bar across the arcade is giving out free martinis for the first fifty customers." Suzume pouts, tugging at your wrist. 

For some reason, the soul mark burns at the idea of you going out to a bar. The last time you've even ingested alcohol was at the party where you met Yuuji, and that alone feels like lifetimes ago. Were you so busy warming your soulmate's cock that you hadn't noticed how much time has actually passed?

Reluctantly, you agree. 

...

The Devil's Nest is packed with students from your university, and it isn't even seven P.M. yet. You and the rest of your girls fail at the pursuit of the free martinis, but Suzume does manage to charm the bouncer into getting the five of you a table. There, you, Suzume, and the three girls from Economics she'd managed to haul into the bar bond over a bottle of tequila.

As the night bleeds on, you check your phone every ten minutes—an itch you can't quite ignore. 

Yuuji has been inviting you over at his place so often, you'd learned to expect his texts before they even come. But tonight, not even a single _hey_ is delivered to your inbox. 

Half an hour later, Chika, one of the Economics chicks, drags you to the dancefloor since you're the only one left sober enough to move in your little group. She laughs and she giggles, bumping into strangers who give her dirty looks that morph into lascivious ones when they notice that her dress isn't doing her any favors covering up. 

"Come on, come on!" she hollers, but you end up losing her in the crowd when the song changes.

When you mutter a string of curses under your breath as you sift through the crowd in search of Chika, you accidentally step on the foot of one of your fellow patrons.

"Sorry," you manage to yell over the blaring music, but your apologetic expression turns into surprise once you see who it is.

"Hey," Kuroo Tetsurou greets, eyes just as wide. "Didn't expect to see you around." 

"You took the words right from my mouth, actually." You flash him a soft smile. 

He laughs, fingers carding through his mess of hair. "Say, you're soulmates with Terushima, right? I remember seeing it the last time we, uh, you know."

Your brow quirks, and your mark burns again underneath your turtleneck. "Why are you asking?"

Kuroo presses his mouth into a thin line, like he's hesitating. "I don't wanna be _that_ guy, but I think I saw him by the couches. I could be wrong though." 

Your heart lurches at his words, and you can only pray it doesn't reflect on your face. You part ways with Kuroo with nothing more than a single nod of your head before you're back to weaving your way through the crowd. It doesn't take long for the couches that Kuroo was pertaining to to come into view, along with a familiar head with bleached hair.

With excitement sizzling in your veins, you're about to call Yuuji's name from the crowd, but your voice dies in your chest once you see who he's with. 

It's a girl you don't recognize, wearing a dress that puts Chika's flimsy outfit to shame. One of her legs is resting on Yuuji's thigh, making the hem of her dress rise higher as she giggles at something he whispered in her ear. Yuuji's arm is draped over her shoulder, a bottle of beer in his other hand. He's too preoccupied with the girl he's with to notice that you're literally five feet away, mouth agape at the sight that beholds you.

You turn back without another word.

...

You find Kuroo Tetsurou again by the back, having a quick smoke.

"Is that allowed?" you ask, resting your back against the wall beside him.

He shrugs before offering you a stick. "No one's telling me off." 

"Just because no one else is doing it, doesn't mean you should," you scold, but you take the cigarette anyways. 

The next ten minutes are spent in idle chit chat. Kuroo is better at small talk than Yuuji is, and that makes you a little bolder.

"You know why I came back to search for you specifically, right?" you ask him, flicking your cigarette butt and killing the flame with the flat sole of your heels. 

"I can think of a few reasons, yeah," he chuckles, turning to his side to face you. The fluorescent light of the fire exit behind you glints off his face a little—golden eyes drooping half-lidded with expectation.

Kuroo's mouth is softer and warmer than you remember; his fingers more calloused when he slides them inside you. He whispers erotic promises in your ears, but even with all that stimulation, you can't help but look for the familiar graze of a tongue piercing in your mouth. His fingers aren't accessorized with rings, and each time Kuroo buries them to the hilt, it only reminds you that he isn't Yuuji. 

You've never had to fake an orgasm in a long time. Kuroo seems aware of this, but still drives you back to your apartment anyway.

...

The next morning, when you're getting your usual coffee run, you deliberately avoid Yuuji's eyes.

"Something the matter, sweet cheeks?" he asks teasingly, but his grin drops when he realizes you're actually upset. 

"Nothing," you tell him, grabbing your espresso from the counter before tossing him your payment. 

You don't reply to any of his texts that day. 

...

"He's bad news, you know."

You cast Sawamura, a classmate of yours in one of those insufferable Gen Ed courses required by your degree, an inquisitive stare.

The two of you are huddled in a quiet corner of the library, separately working on a book report that's due in a few hours. As kindred spirits tend to do, once you found out he's cramming the assignment, you both agreed to help each other out. But so far, those words are the first he's said to initiate conversation.

"I know," you tell him, ceaselessly typing away on your laptop.

He stares at you from where he's seated across from you, brows creased with concern. But when you feel Sawamura's gaze landing on the name marked on your chest, you can almost hear the gears click in place inside his head.

"He's still bad news," he insists. "We came from the same prefecture, and he doesn't exactly have the cleanest reputation."

Your fingers freeze for a moment as you recall the night you saw Yuuji at The Devil's Nest, one arm wrapped around a girl who so obviously wants his cock in her mouth. Then, you remember the way Kuroo pushed his tongue down your throat, and buried his fingers inside you in a dark hallway.

"I know," you repeat with the same firmness, not having the heart to tell him that you're bad news, too.

...

It's typhoon season again and your professors were, thankfully, gracious enough to suspend your remaining exams for the day.

As you climb out of your shower with a relieved sigh, towelling your damp hair, you ponder about napping the day away. Falling asleep shouldn't be a problem now that you have a trusty vibrator locked up in one of your bedroom drawers. 

Your plans, however, fall apart the moment your doorbell rings loud enough for you to grimace. You aren't expecting anyone to come over—in _this_ weather, nonetheless. 

And of course the only person crazy enough to pay you a visit is _him_. 

"Hey," Yuuji greets like he isn't dripping rain water all over your mat. "Lovely weather we're having, huh?"

Finally growing tired of having to skirt around the guy for weeks, you make a beeline for the million-dollar question despite your state of near-undress.

"Am I _really_ the only person you're screwing around with?"

You expect him to drop his sunny disposition, but Yuuji's grin only scales wider. "Yep. Proven and tested, too."

"What?" 

He kicks off his shoes and lets himself in, unceremoniously snagging the towel in your hair to pat himself dry. You scowl at Yuuji as he directs himself to the pantry—helping himself to a glass of water.

"Couple weeks ago, I went to this club with the guys," he says, setting the glass down on the sink. "They tried to set me up with this bangin' babe from god-knows-where."

"Yeah? What about her?" You lean against the archway leading to the kitchen, pretending to invest yourself in the state of your nails. A twinge of something...unpleasant stirs in your chest, but you refuse to give it a name. 

Yuuji laughs softly, slinging the towel across his neck as he toes the distance that separated you. His fingers are electric against your cool skin, and your breath hitches unwillingly when he spares you a lopsided smile. 

"The little guy didn't give a shit," he tells you, nuzzling the hollow of your throat with his nose as he gestures vaguely to his crotch. "I only want _you_." 

A shudder skids across your spine when he trails his hands down your towel-clad hips. Yuuji is nipping at the skin where your pulse hums underneath, and it takes you more willpower than you liked to use just to push him away.

"If that's the case," you start, shying away from his smoldering gaze, "then why haven't you texted me for the last two weeks?" 

The blond pauses, as if mulling over his response. "Didn't you hate it whenever I bothered you during exam season?" 

"Did that stop you back then?" 

"Hmm... You got me there." Yuuji averts his gaze and for once, he looks unsure. "I felt like you were pissed off with me, but I wanted you to come and tell me why, yourself, I guess."

You feel like you should address the palpable tension that settled in the room. What's more is that there are a couple of words straining against the boundary of your sealed lips—pleading, _begging_ for you to let them out. 

"I...kissed someone else."

 _That_ seems to rouse a reaction in him. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting uneasily from where you stand as you formulate an explanation. Why do you even feel like you're obligated to be up front? And why the hell do you feel guilty when this guy isn't even your _boyfriend_?

Instead of brushing it off like you expect him to, however, Yuuji smashes his mouth against yours—catching you completely off guard as he braces his palms across the wall. 

"Well then," he breathes against your lips, slotting himself between your thighs with a wicked smile. 

"I'll just have to kiss you 'til you forget about that douchebag."

...

A few days after rekindling your not-so relationship, Yuuji comes down with the flu.

You berated the blond over it numerous times on the phone, telling him how stupid it was for him to sprint in the rainstorm just to see you. He laughs, the sound gravelly across the line, as he tells you he'd swim the entire Pacific if it meant he'd get to be in your arms.

Not wasting a single thought on it, you hang up...

...only to find yourself climbing the stairwell to his apartment, an assortment of medicine, food ingredients, and even a copy of a shounen magazine all shoved into a paper bag cradled in your arm. 

It takes him several minutes to answer the door, and you tap your foot impatiently across the tiled floor until one of Yuuji's neighbors emerges from the next unit over.

She's an elderly woman who's flashed you nothing but the kindest of smiles whenever you crossed paths in the halls. You often wonder what someone like her is doing living in this run-down place, but you opted not to pry altogether.

"Terushima-kun's been out of commission since yesterday," she tells you, concern evident on her wrinkled features. "It's kind of you to check up on him. You're his girlfriend, right?"

You feel your face flush at the words, but instead of openly denying it like you would have done so a few months prior, you spare her a single nod.

"Something like that."

...

"Hey, am I your girlfriend?"

Yuuji stares at you from where he's perched on the counter, mug of coffee halfway to his lips as he processes your words. You bite your lip, eyeing the elegant scrawl of your name on his wrist. 

"You're my soulmate," he says.

"That doesn't answer my question," you retaliate. 

He sighs, placing the mug back down as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't look upset. If anything, he looks _amused_. 

"Would you like to be?" 

Clicking your tongue, you raise your foot to kick him in the shin. "I'm being serious."

"Who says I'm not?" Yuuji's brows pinch together with perplexion. "If it hasn't occurred to you, being ridiculously dense as you are, I'm kind of in love with you."

You jump away from him like a cat dropped into a basin of water. " _What_?"

Yuuji rolls his eyes. "Come on. You think with my awful track record, I'd quit my habit of picking up chicks if I wasn't at all into you?"

"How can I be sure I'm not just another notch on your bedpost then?" 

You regret saying the words the moment the come out of your lips, and the feeling only festers when Yuuji's face twists with hurt. But then, he does something expected—which is all that he keeps doing nowadays—and walks closer to you.

"Aren't _these_ proof enough?" he murmurs, dragging the neckline of your shirt with the hand that bears the soul mark as he reveals the one inked on your skin. 

This time, you meet his eyes. Amber pools stare right back at you with a plea lurking in the depths—inviting you to just jump in and drown with him.

When you take a deep breath, water begins to fill your lungs as you lean in close. If the kisses you shared never felt intimate, they would be now. 

"I guess they are," you relent, half-laughing, half-sighing before your lips find their way back home on his.

...

At a frat party being thrown by one of the graduating seniors, Yuuji spills his drink on you _again_ , and you're unashamed to give him a piece of your mind. 

"Are you really that clumsy or is this your icebreaker every time you're trying to bring someone home?" you grumble, repeatedly tearing out sheets of paper towels from the dispenser in the kitchen. 

Yuuji snorts out loud, draining whatever concoction is in his cup before tossing it to the sink. "I thought that was our code for _let's get the hell out of here._ "

"You can tell me that _without_ ruining my good dresses, you ass!" 

"Mmmm..." your boyfriend hums, snaking an arm around you before lowering his palm to give _your_ ass a squeeze. "This dress does look stunning, babe. Although, I bet it'd look even better if—"

"I stripped myself off it—yeah, yeah. Your pick-up lines are _horribly_ overused, Yuuji." You huff, gathering both your purse and his hand as you lead him outside.

"Where ever are you taking me?" he chuckles as the two of you wade through a sea of strangers. 

"Someplace where I can suck you off so you'd shut up," you scoff, yet your grip on his hand only tightens. 

Yuuji says something intelligible over the obnoxious music, but you don't quite catch it. What you _do_ notice is the way he squeezes your hand back, like a silent thanks for going along with all his bad ideas.

"I can't believe I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life," you sigh as he pushes you back against the door of an empty bedroom. 

Yuuji clicks the lock in place, affixing you with a gaze which doesn't belong in a bedroom that isn't yours.

"Heh. I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> *slaps fic* I've had this baby in the drafts for like . a year already I think. I have a weird complex for writing terushima where I feel like I can't do him enough justice no matter what I try. I've been making edits to the draft every few weeks or so, but just now decided that maybe this is worth showing it to you guys. The title is also from a Bleachers song, but I forgot which one oops.
> 
> You can talk to me on [tumblr](http://hirugamis.tumblr.com) or support/commission me on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/kaientai)!


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